Ruins of the Fall (The Remants Trilogy #2) (2 page)

“What’s that?”

“Your HoloBand,” Jana says. “You look surprised.”

“Surprised you shot straight with me? Yeah, I guess.” I remember, when I first woke up, the slight prick at the back of my neck. She must’ve removed it right then. Just as well. It tracks my location when it’s implanted, amongst a host of other frightening abilities that I’m not sure qualify as advancements. Least of all its capability of being the lynchpin for a massive interconnected virtual reality network.

“With this, you’re still valuable,” Jana says, rolling the case around in her palm. “Without it…”

A screen at the capsule’s front flickers on, snatching everyone’s attention. The familiar face of the Circle’s propaganda network—the silver-haired newscaster I affectionately call Old Silver Fox—clears his throat before an urgent “news” announcement.

“This should be good,” I say. Although I’m loathe to admit it, I’m curious if the tenor of the Circle’s media relations has changed. I have my doubts that Nathaniel Blackstone is a more benevolent dictator than his murdered predecessor, despite Blackstone’s wizened visage.

Jana raises a finger to her lips. There’s a certain irony, that the Remnants actually care what this guy has to say. But I soon see why.

“HIVE is currently experiencing scheduled downtime for a massive firmware upgrade,” Old Silver Fox begins with gravitas, “but functionality will be restored by the end of the week. Citizens are encouraged to rely on the legacy HoloNet infrastructure. A full statement from our Secretary of Technology, Kid Vegas, can be found at our HoloNet address.”

So the bastard survived—or at least, that’s the party line for now. Should’ve expected that.

“Poor citizens,” I say, giving a sideways glance to Jana, “You’re making them use the shitty old HoloNet, now? The porn on that is barely interactive.”

“Shut up,” she says.

“And now, breaking and exciting news from our leader,” Old Silver Fox says, although he hardly looks excited. “Chancellor Blackstone, in a statement exclusive to CMN, has announced a peace accord with the Lionhearted and Ashes of the Fall. This will mark the end of a three-year conflict. For Circle Media & News, I’m—”

Someone at the front of the capsule tosses their boot at the screen, shattering it. The sound dies with a hissing groan. The small car erupts into a blitz of noise as the Remnants fight amongst each other. I don’t say anything, but I do smile somewhat smugly to myself.

A shot to the ribs breaks me out of my silent victory.

“What’re you so happy about?” Jana says. “This means we don’t need you.”

“Or maybe you need me more than ever.”

“I doubt that,” she yells above the fray, then quickly rises, leaving me alone. As the noise swirls around me, I stare at the empty plains. In the distance, I swear I see a fire. I wonder who lives out there, in the wreckage. Is it a battle? A group of wanderers, trying to survive?

Jana’s final words ring in my ears. What is Blackstone’s end game—what does this peace treaty afford him that war could not? The fact that I can’t even fathom an answer makes me shiver.

I crane my neck to peer at the fire, but the horizon is swallowed up by the night.

Even a slow Hyperloop is too fast for the speed of life.

Jana’s right: I need to make myself useful. Maybe the Circle’s bluffing, but if they can get HIVE back online without me, that means my stock drops significantly. And it seems unlikely that Blackstone’s looking to split the power dynamic four ways.

Lots of complications to my life already, and I’ve only been awake for a couple hours.

But there’s at least one I’m not expecting. Because when I see Carina Alonso and Evelyn Vera for the first time in three years—at least
really
see them, for real—I have to stop. They’re standing out on the Hyperloop platform, near what used to be the entrance to the Otherlands.

“You’re holding the line up,” the Remnant guard behind me says. He pushes be forward and I almost stumble and fall. “Let’s go, Sleeping Beauty.”

“Didn’t take you for someone who could read,” I say.

“Just fucking move it.” This time, when he puts his hands on me, I fly face-first into the dust. The cuffs scrape against the ground. The platform opened only three years ago, but it’s already lost quite a bit of its luster. The Circle’s insignia—a circle with a small gap at the top, where a small star resides—has already faded. In another few years, the paint will be gone.

The platform is abandoned, and the tube enclosing the Hyperloop is scorched by flame and marred by graffiti. I see that the rattles and shakes were caused by the dead weight at the end—at least ten capsules which sit askew, roofs ripped to shreds.

The tube wobbles and shakes as the last passengers disembark. The machine seems unsure whether it can continue operating. Judging from the state of affairs, the Circle’s grand plan of separating criminals from the rest of society didn’t go as planned.

“Get up.” The guard hauls me up by the shoulder. “Enough sightseeing.”

I shake him off and walk over to Evelyn and Carina.

“So you’re alive,” I say, because nothing else comes to mind. They share a glance after looking at my cuffs. But there’s no chance for either of them to comment before we’re herded towards the broken turnstiles at the end of the platform. There’s a certain circular nature to all of this—since I met Carina at similar gates in New Manhattan—but the situation is far different.

No one mans the booths to scan our HoloBands. Here, we just step over the rusted metal and walk outside to the abandoned road. In the distance, I can see the outline of Atlanta. The towering skyline is just as I remember it—no worse, no better. Slick, as president of the Ashes of the Fall, hasn’t had time to initiate a public works program.

“If I’d have known we were visiting Slick, I would’ve made cookies,” I say once we stop. There’s no sign of life around for miles. Neither Carina nor Evelyn smile. Not getting a response gnaws at me more than I’d like to admit. “Maybe one of you—”

“Cut the shit, Luke,” Jana says, appearing from behind me. “We’re not going to Atlanta.”

“Glad you’re still here,” I say, shaking the cuffs as she moves in front of me. “I think you forgot something.”

Jana smirks, but doesn’t respond.

“She’s trading you,” Evelyn says. “Idea was, the world would go to shit if HIVE went down. Then the Remnants would give back the HoloBand and you, restore order, and everyone would stop hunting them.”

“Be quiet,” Jana says.

“Maybe you should speak to your lackeys a little softer,” Evelyn says.

Well, at least I know why Evelyn and Carina aren’t cuffed. They just aren’t worth that much as trade bait.

Dirt bikes hum in the open distance, maybe five minutes away. The Remnant guards stand at attention, their breaths shortening. Nerve-wracking, being so close to the Ashes of the Fall.

Imagine if you’re cuffed and weaponless. I manage to keep my cool, though.

“Was it your idea,” I say to Jana, who’s scanning the horizon for threats.

She just doesn’t turn, just answers, “No.”

“That’s refreshing.”

“It’s a dumb plan,” she says. “At best, it would’ve bought us a temporary reprieve. But now, after all that’s happened—you’re worthless. Like I said.”

“I changed the world,” I say. “I wouldn’t call that worthless.”

The growling engines grow louder.

“Ruining the world,” Jana says. “Invaluable.”

“Can’t ruin what’s already broken,” I say. “Who wanted to cut this deal?”

“Just shut up, Luke.”

Easy to say when your ass doesn’t depend on sweet-talking your way out of an impossible situation. “Just tell me who it was.”

“Vlad.”

My breath catches. The leader of the Remnants.

Her father.

“Shit.”

“And you haven’t even met him,” she says. “He’s scarier in person.” I watch as she brings her rifle scope up to her eye. “These aren’t us.”

There’s a chill to her words, but no fear.

“What do you mean, not us,” the guard behind me says, clearly wetting himself. Serves the prick right, throwing me around like a sack of moldy beans. “They’re on schedule.”

“They were supposed to change the flag from red to green when they were four miles out,” Jana says. “It’s still red.”

The surviving contingent of Remnants—about a hundred strong—clamber for their rifles.

“We gotta move out,” Jana says.

“Where?” a soldier calls.

“Just follow me.” She starts to run towards a processing facility, maybe three hundred yards from the station platform. Plain concrete. It bears the Circle’s official insignia.

It’s like a stampede, fear overtaking the group who, only hours before, undertook a suicide mission to save me. Funny how the mind works. Certain death is acceptable.

Uncertain death is far more frightening.

“Did you see,” Carina whispers into my ear as we hurry along the ruined road. She touches the chain around her neck—empty, the cross taken by the Circle. “The people along the Hyperloop. Praying.”

“Praying?”

“The fire in the distance.”

I nod, but don’t speak. Wishful thinking on her part, but I leave her imagination alone. I get the impression she wants to cling to my shirt sleeve. This isn’t New Manhattan, and she’s never been outside its comparatively kind walls. But she doesn’t—three years in the HIVE must’ve toughened up the naïve, idealistic young woman I once knew.

I sprint along the pitted concrete, following the Remnants. I consider breaking off in the confusion to toss my lot in with whoever killed our welcoming party. But it strikes me that they’re not a friendly bunch either—and if Jana’s right, and no one needs me any more, I can only imagine that my fate will not be kind.

When we reach the building, I stop to read the pitted sign over the door.

EXECUTION CHAMBER

Scores lots of points for brevity and clarity, although it lacks lyricism. This must be where I was destined to go when I was sentenced to die. I spot a non-functioning camera in the corner.

And they were gonna broadcast the whole thing. Can’t say I miss the old Circle.

Carina and Evelyn have disappeared inside by the time I stop daydreaming.

“Everyone hurry up,” Jana calls from the doorway as she ushers the surviving Remnants into the building. “Blackstone’s search parties have been a pain in our ass.”

Bodies push past, so I stand tight against the wall to avoid getting hit.

“You sure it’s safe in here?” I say, eying the sign. Flecks of rust creep at the edges.

“We’re not gonna die,” Jana says. “At least not from anything in here.”

“How comforting.”

“The world we live in,” Jana says, bringing her rifle up to examine the blackened landscape.

“Should’ve let me keep sleeping.”

“What’s the fun in that,” Jana says with a grin. Then she reaches into the folds of fabric and flicks me the key to the cuffs. I snag them out of the air.

“You’re sure about this?”

“Worthless might’ve been a little harsh,” she says, checking the munition in the rifle. “After all, you caused this shitshow.”

“Thanks?”

“That counts as a compliment in these times, Luke,” she says, flashing those white teeth again. “You take what you can get.”

Don’t know if this is a subtle dig at my modus operandi to date, which can best be summarized as
save my own ass
. But there’s no time for psychoanalysis. I don’t want her to change her mind, so I unlock the cuffs, rub some feeling back into my wrists and then stare her straight in the eyes.

“Why’ Blackstone wanna kill you so damn bad?” I say, breathing heavy, my body poorly acclimated to actual physical exertion.

“People always want to destroy what they don’t understand,” Jana says with a faraway look in her eye. “It’s not just Blackstone. It’s all of them.”

This is a prime opportunity to provide her with an alternative to handing me over. Prove my worth. But nothing comes to mind. Nervous voices filter out from the concrete building.

All I can do is stand by Jana and wait. Maybe solidarity is enough.

I follow her gaze, to the approaching legion of dirt bikes.

“It’s gonna take a lot to win over my people,” Jana says. She reaches into her waistband. I think she’s about to hand me a gun, but it’s actually a detonator.

“What are you doing?” I take a step back.

“They’re pissed at you, Luke,” Jana says. “Your brother, we loved him for giving us a chance in this world. Hope. And you took that all away.”

“I was trying to fix things.”

“Intentions don’t matter much on the plains. You took that HIVE source from our vault, and the world’s gotten worse for us. Simple as that.” Her finger hovers over the button. “But I think you’re right.”

“Right about what?”

“You’re worth a lot more than you’ve ever let on.”

I don’t have time to process whether this development is good or bad, because her finger touches the button and a massive explosion erupts on the horizon, where the dirt bikes were a second before. Jana peers into the darkness with a stoic expression.

“They’ve pulled this shit before, killing our people and impersonating them,” she says. “So I placed contingencies on the bikes.”

“Just in case,” I say, one eye on the smoking horizon, the other on her. I don’t want to be on the wrong side of her. “How can I help?”

“You caused our problems, hero,” Jana says, no malice in her voice. Just a world-weariness born of a life on the plains. “And you’ll fix them, too.
End
them.”

She smiles, but I don’t. The emphasis on
end
is all-encompassing, total. Knows no bounds.

Then her eyes flash with a hint of worry.

Before I can react, she takes out a pistol, aims it right at my head, and fires.